THEN: Secretary of State (KY), 1996-2004; Candidate for Lieutenant Governor, 2007
NOW: JYB3 Group (Owner) -public affairs consulting firm; Miller Wells law firm (Of counsel)
Full Biography:link
By John Y. Brown III, on Fri Jan 9, 2015 at 12:00 PM ET
I told the story to my son about how my grandfather (and his great grandfather) got the rarefied and much coveted opportunity to argue before the United States Supreme Court. He lost. But had one of the bolder moments of an attorney before the Supreme Court. Probably too bold.
Of course, for such an august task as arguing before the Supreme Court, an attorney would be well served by a strong self-esteem and command of the courtroom. But John Y Sr, in… the middle of his oral argument, became irritated that Justice Arthur Goldberg didn’t seem to be listening and instead was shuffling papers. John Y Sr stopped his argument and said something to the effect of “Justice Goldberg, I have looked forward my entire legal career to have the opportunity to argue before the U.S Supreme Court and I would appreciate it if you would stop shuffling those papers and listen to my argument and allow the other Justices to as well.”
Justice Goldberg complied. But Justice Goldberg also was assigned the task of writing the majority opinion, which was unfavorable to my grandfather. Coincidence?
Who knows. But I suspect Justice Goldberg took a request from a Southern attorney for common courtesy as something closer to a brazenness. Again, who knows.
But thanks to my cousin Benham Sims for finding this gem. We both are surely proud of our grandfather and are grateful for the long list of amusing and memorable courtroom stories he left behind as part of his legacy.
By John Y. Brown III, on Thu Jan 8, 2015 at 12:00 PM ET
Sometimes in life –as we get older –we find ourselves doing things not because we “want to do them” but rather because it is the “grown – up thing to do.”
I just had one of those moments. And it feels good inside.
We just left a video arcade where a 9 year old boy was playing Pop-a-Shot and thought he was really hot stuff. He had an entrouge cheering him on: his father, mother and older sister. They were chanting things like “Go, Josh!” and “That’s great, Josh!”
Well, I did what any other guy in a video arcade would do who had Pop-a-Shot game. I immediately got 4 quarters and went to work. While the family was still close enough to watch me.
I filled it up, too! Josh’s high game was 22. Mine was 41. ‘Nuf said!
As I turned to walk away in hopes someone in that family would marvel out loud, “Who is that guy?” or at least say to me “Great shooting!” But none did. Instead they stared downward at the machine and watched it spit out ticket after ticket I had won with my score.
It was at that moment I knew what I should do: Reach down and grab the tickets and buy my 16 year old daughter and 20 year old son a toy prize.
But something deep inside me reminded me that when I did that in the past –when they were very young – we never made it home with the toy prize intact.
And then something hit me at a deeper level. It was this question: What would a real grown-up do? And I had it. I knew without even thinking. A real grown-up would leave the tickets so he wouldn’t have to clean up the mess in the car after his kids tore up the toy prizes trying to play with them. And I did.
Josh grabbed the tickets and looked at me and I just smiled. I told him I was 51 years old now and he could have my tickets. He thanked me excitedly. I shrugged and looking at his parents and added, “If I were 49 I might want to keep them.”
They laughed out loud. But that’s because they don’t understand. They were in their early 40s and couldn’t yet know where I was coming from. But one day they will.
By John Y. Brown III, on Wed Jan 7, 2015 at 12:00 PM ET
I want my wife to know how hard I am working this morning.
We are on vacation but it is still a work day for others and I have to put in several hours this morning.
I know Rebecca knows I work hard but I worry that she doesn’t fully appreciate just how hard.
She was with me this morning in the car during several important calls when we went out to get coffee. I think that impressed her but then I dropped her off at the hotel and stayed in the car to work since I didn’t want to wake up the kids. I went back to the room an hour later to let her know there had been several more calls –and even more calls to come after that.
Granted these “calls” don’t involve manual labor or any kind of real physical work, but I want my wife to imagine my conference calls are the equivalent –or harder — than draining physical labor.
I just texted her again to tell her about some emails I am having to respond to and how stressful my morning has been but how I won’t allow any of this to impact our vacation plans today. I hope this will underline for her –and our children — all the sacrifice I make for them and how “I work so hard to support our family.” They love hearing me say that. Not really. But I love saying it. A lot, as a matter of fact.
Rebecca texted back her standard response that she appreciates all I do. And this time even included a smiley face. Which I apprecited.
The text has a picture of Rebecca’s healthy face but is a washed-out or white generic emoji to emphasize how drained I must feel.
I thought about texting Rebecca that I might be having some mild chest pains right now to emphasize for her how hard I am working and hopefully get more than a smiley face on her next text back. But since I am not having chest pains and am actually in a well air conditioned Starbucks enjoying coffee while doing my laborious “emails,” I am not going to do that right now.
But I am going to post on Facebook about how hard I am working this morning and how much I do for our family and tag her.
And then text her and ask her to have to kids read my Facebook post about how hard my day has been so far — and how I hope they appreciate it.
I am not asking them to praise me or tell me how grateful they are for me and all I do or to maybe tell me that I am a totally amazing husband and father. Although any of those things would be nice. All I am really asking is that they at least acknowledge my efforts in some small but significant way. Just “liking” this post would let me know my message is getting through loud and clear. Or at least vaguely and inadequately. Which is enough for my over-sized and needy male ego this morning.
By John Y. Brown III, on Tue Jan 6, 2015 at 12:00 PM ET
See this picture? To the discerning eye it is a catastrophic accident — and multi million dollar law suit — just waiting to happen.
Remember a few decades ago when McDonald’s served an extra hot coffee to an elderly customer — but did not seal the top when handing it to her — and she spilled it in her lap and suffered severe burns and made national news when she was later awarded several million dollars in damages?
Well, the exact same thing almost happened to me yesterday but instead of an unsealed cup of scalding hot coffee it was an unsealed cup of cold ice water.
Fortunately for Tommy Burger I spotted their outrageous negligence putting me in harms way and sealed the cup of ice water myself. And later drank it in my car without incident.
Sometimes, even in the face of wanton negligence, you just get lucky. This was one of those times.
By John Y. Brown III, on Mon Jan 5, 2015 at 12:00 PM ET
This morning, watching the sun rise and drinking my coffee as I absorbed the idea of a new year unfurling, I wondered what song I would pick to mark the occasion — to set the tone for the first hours of an entire new year.
A raft of different jazz and rock and jazz-rock songs came to mind along with a classical tune and one hip-hop piece.
I decided my song for 2015 would be Aja by Steely Dan. But as I listened to the first few seconds of that song I realized that wasn’t what I wanted or needed.
I didn’t want a backward-looking song for 2015 but a forward-looking song. One with fresh words and surprising images that describe the beginning of a new chapter in life. A chapter I haven’t read before about concepts I don’t already think I understand but am excited to attempt to because I am finally ready.
A song that dances in my head and taps in my toes but also nourishes my soul and can animate my spirit. A song that doesn’t seem to have a beginning, middle or end, but is asynchronous yet flows sensibly in unseen directions. And flows toward something true I do not now know but have been searching for and lays it out before me to pick up or merely listen to again. Something light yet profound. Something curious yet familiar. Something obvious yet invisible.
Something musically that I can escape to whenever I want to that lifts my spirit and makes me feel like I am dancing while standing still. A song that helps me see things that can only be seen with my eyes closed and that has a rythmic melody that reminds me of my better self in better days that have not yet happened. But are about to.
A new song. That hasn’t been written or sung yet by anybody and can maybe only be heard in silence by the lyrical tenor I choose to live my life to in 2015.
And plays as often as I want to hear it on a new Sirius station nobody else can find but me.
By John Y. Brown III, on Thu Jan 1, 2015 at 12:00 PM ET
One of the most common ways we talk to ourselves —or are supposed to —is through “Positive Self Talk” I discovered this idea about 25 years ago. We say positive things to ourself in the bathroom mirror each morning before starting our day. It puts us in a better frame of mind and helps us to have a better day.
But lately I have to admit that positive self-talk in my bathroom mirror in the mornings is getting harder. And I think my real self is finally on to my positive self-talking self. In fact, my positive self-talk affirmations are turning into dialogues with my real self. And at times has been getting a little tense. What happened this morning should not have come as a surprise to me.
Positive Self-Talk Self (PSTS): “Good morning there, fella. Alright. OK. Not bad. Really not bad at all.”
Real Self (RS): “That’s all you got for me this morning? ‘OK’ and ‘Not bad?’ Come on. ”
PSTS: “Well, it’s good. It’s good. It is. Certainly it could be worse. I mean…What do you want me to say?”
RS: “I don’t know. It would be nice to hear something good but I don’t want you to just lie to me. I don’t want you to even exaggerate. In fact, I want you to start shooting straight with me from now on. OK? No more with just this happy talk. Man to man. OK? If I am not doing alright, just say it. I’m 51 years old and can deal with it. ”
PSTS: (Gets quiet before answering) “Ok. OK. Yeah, John. I hear you. I admit, I have been laying it on a little thick lately. What do you want me to do? If I just tell you the truth, you will get mad and leave abruptly. And sometimes not talk to me for several days. And that’s not going to work for me anymore?”
RS: “What? ‘That’s not going to work for you anymore?’ You aren’t even a real full person. You are just some part of myself that is supposed to deliver good news to me, give me pep talks, and say encouraging things to me in the mornings. You know…. Help me see things from their most positive perspective and make me think that is the way they really are.”
PSTS: “Yeah, I know, John. I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. For a while there —-through your 30s and 40s —I could do that with a straight face. But it’s getting harder with each passing year. I don’t know how much longer I can do this without losing touch with reality —and eventually losing my mind.”
RS: “Wait. Wait! PSTS, are you telling me that the last few yeas of positive things you’ve been saying to me were total BS?”
PSTS: “No, John. I didn’t say that. Not ‘total BS.’ Just…I am just not feeling it any more with you. I think I probably need to move on to a different person who I can say positive things about and really mean it. Or just not say anything at all.”
RS: “You know what? Get out of my bathroom. I mean it. Right now. This is the last time we are ever talking in the bathroom mirror –ever. Or any kind of mirror for that matter. Understand?!. Just GET OUT!” (mumble to myself “Phony poser wandering around my bathroom every morning. That’s not right. That’s just weird. I cannot believe that i.have let my PSTS in my bathroom every morning while dressing for the past 25 years. That’s crazy!”
That’s it. PSTS left. And now I feel terrible. I was way too hard on him. And, deep down, I know he is right and just didn’t know how to communicate it to me.
I hope he comes back tomorrow morning. I really feel awful now and could use one of his corny pep talks. Heck, I miss the little guy.
By John Y. Brown III, on Wed Dec 31, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET
I am mad at my wife right now –at 12:50am — and am going to write about it on Facebook.
I am mad at Rebecca because she got a little exasperated with me for asking her a question again —and said I had asked her that same question 20 times and the answer was the same for the 20th time — that she didn’t know.
Then I decided I wouldn’t be talked to like that and pretended to go to sleep until Rebecca settled down and apologized for hurting my feelings.
For one thing, I didn’t really ask her that question 20 times. I only asked her 3 or 4 times. Or 5 times, maybe, tops. But definitely not 20. So she is exagerating about that. And she didn’t tell me she didn’t know the answer 20 times either. Just 3 or 4 times. Or 5 times, maybe, tops.
And to make matters worse, after I pretended to go to sleep waiting for Rebecca to apologize, she never even apologized. Or said anything at all. I kept waiting and waiting and waiting and waiting. And then I waited a little more. Finally I said, “Good night,” to let her know I was serious about going to sleep and that she better hurry up and apologize fast before it was too late.
But she never did. She just said “Good night” back and went to sleep herself!! And now is in a deep dern sleep and I don’t know what to do because I never did go to sleep like I was pretending I was about to.
It sure doesn’t look like Rebecca is going to apologize to me tonight. And she probably won’t remember this whole episode tomorrow morning — and the need to apologize to me unless I remind her. But when I do that it usually doesn’t work out well for me —and somehow before it is all over I am the one apologizing to her. And I don’t want that to happen again.
I am thinking about coughing or stirring in bed to wake Rebecca up to give her one last chance to apologize. But the last time I did that Rebecca didn’t apologize at all and told me to quit coughing and quit moving around and go to sleep. Which made things even worse for me. And I don’t want that to happen again either.
So this time I am not going to wake up Rebecca but just write about her a little bit on Facebook — like I am now and calmly lay out my entire side of the story all factual-like and rationally and remind her how I didn’t wake her up or bring it up in the morning like in the past. I am simply going to tag Rebecca on this post.
If things go as planned, Rebecca will wake up and read this post and realize how she overreacted and what a great guy I am for not waking her up or reminding her about it the next morning and feel really bad about the whole thing. Bad enough to apologize to me for getting a little huffy with me and then tell me she knows I really didn’t ask her that silly question 20 times but only 3 or 4 times. Or 5 times, maybe, tops.
Oh…And after I forgive her and tell her not to worry about it she will tell me how much she loves me and what an amazing person and husband I am.
By John Y. Brown III, on Tue Dec 30, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET
I am not doing this to brag. But I just considered, in my mind, running a 5K race —someday. And meant it. Not for sure. But meant it in the sense of “I’m kinda serious this time. I could actually see it maybe happening. It’s only, like, 3.1 miles.” In that sense.
Admittedly, this isn’t a definitive proclamation. And, no, it is not a Facebook announcement about something significant I recently achieved. But it is about something. In the past when I would think about running a 5k race one of these days, I never seriously believed it would ever happen. But this time, just now tonight, when I thought about one day running a 5K race —sometime in the next few years—I could see it “possibly happening.” Not for sure. Not even “more likely than not.” Heck, maybe only a 5% chance of actually occurring. But that is something. And maybe even closer to a 7% or 8% chance of running a 5K. And that was enough to get me excited. Excited enough to think seriously about it and knowing that even though it is unlikely, it is still possible that it could happen.
And that is what I am announcing tonight on Facebook.
By John Y. Brown III, on Mon Dec 29, 2014 at 12:00 PM ET
At Dave Chappelle show at the Palace with Rebecca.
Great show…sitting in a sea of white people —each of whom is thinking “If Dave looks at me he will probably realize I am not as ‘white’ as the other white people around me.”
Until we look at each other in the audience. And realize Dave probably won’t think that.
===
The lowlight, for me, of the Dave Chappelle performance last night.
It was during the warm-up.
The DJ was trying to get the audience going and pumped up to cheer on Dave taking the stage.
He shouted, “How many 90’s babies do we have out there?” There was a big cheer.
“How ’bout let’s here it for the 80’s babies out there tonight.” Another big roar.
“All you 70’s babies in the crowd tonight, stand-up and let me heaaaar youuuu.” More cheering though a diminished amount.
And as I waited eagerly to stand up and rock it out for 60’s babies in the house, the DJ stopped at the 70s.
Asshole DJ. What are we? The grandparents driving the rest of the audience home?
Oh well. The joke was on him. I was too tired to stand up again anyway.
I told the story to my son about how my grandfather (and his great grandfather) got the rarefied and much coveted opportunity to argue before the United States Supreme Court. He lost. But had one of the bolder moments of an attorney before the Supreme Court. Probably too bold.
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